


The Brazilian Wax

by writingandchocolatemilk



Series: Bad Touch Trio Stories [2]
Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Alternate Universe - Human, Brazilian Wax, Gen, Not Fetish, Wax, Waxing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-22
Updated: 2015-05-22
Packaged: 2018-03-31 18:54:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 926
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3988978
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/writingandchocolatemilk/pseuds/writingandchocolatemilk
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>They came late in the night. There were four of them, each tripping over each other and giggling like mad. They smelled of the cigarettes from a bar, and they reeked of the last days of summer, something frantic and impulsive.</p><p>Kiku was closing down the shop when they had stumbled in, grins leering in the dark. Only one of them, who egged on the rest, seemed in more control of himself. Alfred, the others called him.</p><p>Alfred walked to the desk and slapped two hundred dollars on the counter.</p><p>“We’d like three Brazilians, please.” Alfred held up three fingers, and his eyes seemed a little clearer than they should have. “These fuckers think they can be strippers, but I told them not with the nest they have growing.” Alfred waved his hand lazily. “Francis, Antonio, and Gilbert,” he introduced.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Brazilian Wax

**Author's Note:**

  * For [rising-writing](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=rising-writing).



They came late in the night. There were four of them, each tripping over each other and giggling like mad. They smelled of the cigarettes from a bar, and they reeked of the last days of summer, something frantic and impulsive.

Kiku was closing down the shop when they had stumbled in, grins leering in the dark. Only one of them, who egged on the rest, seemed in more control of himself. Alfred, the others called him.

Alfred walked to the desk and slapped two hundred dollars on the counter.

“We’d like three Brazilians, please.” Alfred held up three fingers, and his eyes seemed a little clearer than they should have. “These fuckers think they can be strippers, but I told them not with the nest they have growing.” He laughed like it was the funniest thing he had ever said. 

Kiku smiled politely, placing the money in the drawer. The other three were quite the group; a handsome man with long, blond hair who kept slipping into French; a plain looking brunet who nodded and agreed with everything the others were saying, who spoke with a lisp; a man who had bleached his hair white, and who laughed with a little too much force.

Alfred waved his hand lazily. “Francis, Antonio, and Gilbert.”

Kiku led them into the back. The walls here weren’t covered with stylish posters of nails and abstract paintings, this was business, were only the bravest dared to venture. And the brave knew what they were getting into, and no amount of picture frames could help that. 

The room smelled aggressively of cleaning agents and flowers, something that assaulted the senses and caused more fear than relaxation. The five piled into the room, and Alfred turned to his friends and clapped his hands together. 

“Which one of you is up first?” he asked, back a little too straight, casting mischievous looks at Kiku. 

The three dawdled. 

“It’s not that I’m _afraid_ ,” Gilbert snapped, hands on his hips and grin carved into his face, “It’s just that I’m not the one who’s gonna’ go first! It’s not fair—I had to pay for everyone’s drinks!”

Francis draped himself over Gilbert, hair a tangel that would have looked good even in a windstorm. “That’s because you are the only one with a job. We poor, unfortunate souls can only afford so much.” He turned to Antonio. “Dear, you should be the one to go.”

The comment took a moment to register on his face. A grin, a nervous one that was more instinct than anything, and then a slacked jaw denial. “No, no,” and he slipped into Spanish, sending fearful looks at the table. 

Alfred let them squabble before wrapping his arms around Gilbert and Antonio. “Dudes, come on! Don’t be fucking babies, we already paid, and you’ll lose the competition. Faster you go up, faster it’s over.”

Gilbert was shoved forward, and his feet seemed to catch on the smooth linoleum as he trudged slower and slower to the table. His fingers, heavy and awkward with drinks, played with his belt and he hopped on the table. 

Kiku warmed the wax. It was an unassuming little jar, and he only had a simple tongue-depressor and strips of cloth to inflict pain. Gilbert watched Kiku with a kind of unfocused daze, like he was watching his noose being prepared.

"You guys are just fucking assholes,” Gilbert said, looking at the other three.

“Oh, don’t be a fucking pussy,” Alfred sneered, reaching forward to place his hand on Gilbert’s face and give him a shove back. “Your boyfriend will like it, trust me.”

Kiku neared, and Gilbert jerked back, laughing. “Jesus fucking Christ! You look like you’re enjoying this way too much, fuck.” Another shaky laugh, and he allowed Kiku to step closer.

The wax dripped like honey, and the dreamy look was back in everyone’s eyes as Kiku spread. Even Alfred, whose demeanor had been slightly predatory, had calmed. The air was thick and heavy, like the heavens waiting for lightning to rip the skies apart. 

“It’s warm.”

Kiku pressed the cloth to Gilbert’s flesh, pressing down carefully. 

And Kiku ripped it off. 

Gilbert shrieked, lurching backwards, upper back jutting off of the table. He let out another howl as he fell backwards, falling to the ground and flailing. Alfred burst out laughing, doubling over and holding onto Antonio for support as he wheezed. 

Antonio and Francis were looking pale, watching as their friend writhed and eventually fell still on the ground. The room was very quiet, expect for Alfred’s snorts and Gilbert’s moans. 

“Eh…” Antonio said, edging closer. “Are you… Okay?”

“ _Fuck you_ I’m okay! That fucking _hurt_ , you son of a Spanish whore!” He looked up, eyes watering. “You. You have to go.”

Antonio stepped back, hands raising defensively and placating grin back. “Eh—“

“No!” Gilbert yelled, grabbing the table and dragging himself upwards. “No! You fuckwads have you go! Both of you have to get up on this fucking table and have your fucking pubes ripped out! Francis, you turn around _right fucking now_!” 

Francis threw his hands up into the air. “I did not sign up for this! I wanted a few drinks!”

Gilbert nearly launched himself over the table. “ _I’ll kill you_!” 

Kiku cleared his throat. “I am not done.”

Gilbert’s head whipped around. “What?” His voice cracked. 

“That was only the first strip.” Kiku held up the other pieces of cloth. 

Nearby, Alfred leaned against the wall and slowly slid down, holding his stomach in a silent laugh.  

**Author's Note:**

> The best request I've ever received.


End file.
